


Never Enough

by fictocriticism



Category: Glee
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Klaine Tiny Bang, M/M, Porn, Sex Toys, pre-NYADA decision, pre-season 4 fic, somnophilia (intent not action)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 02:14:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictocriticism/pseuds/fictocriticism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Blaine's never satisfied with just once.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Enough

**Author's Note:**

> This is set sometime at the end of season 3, before Kurt has heard about NYADA. Originally written for the Klaine Tiny Bang (not for any specific prompt). Thanks to Nikki and Alana for a lookover.

 

“Oh god, Blaine,” Kurt groans, pumping his hips faster. Blaine clenches hard around him, loving the feel of his cock stretching him open. They don’t get to do it enough, never enough, and Kurt’s leaving soon and he just wants and wants. Blaine knows they’re still young, knows they’re unlikely to keep this pace forever, but he can’t imagine a time when he won’t want Kurt at every minute. He bucks his hips, loves the way that Kurt’s rhythm falters briefly, just enough to send him thrusting a little roughly.  
  
“Come on,” Blaine says. “Do it. I want you to come.” He can feel the sweat at his temples, the way it gathers a little on his chest. He wraps his hands up around Kurt’s arms, feeling his muscles flex as he fucks into him. It’s amazing. It’s everything.  
  
Kurt grunts then and presses in hard, tight, until Blaine’s back is arching, he’s clamping down and Kurt’s spilling into him hot and perfect. They’re both breathing hard and Kurt slumps forward until their foreheads are pressed together. Blaine twists so their noses bump and smiles wide. He’s still hard, pressed up tightly against Kurt’s body, and he shifts a little.  
  
Kurt smiles wickedly. “Aren’t you done yet?”  
  
Blaine whines, shifts more obviously before realising Kurt’s sliding out of him, gentle and soft. He pulls away for a moment, probably getting rid of the condom. Blaine aches for him. “I’ve got you, baby,” Kurt murmurs then before sliding down the bed until he can take Blaine’s cock in his mouth. It’s sudden and wet, but Blaine can feel the emptiness inside, aches for the phantom feel of Kurt inside him again.  
  
“Please,” he pants unsteadily, “your fingers.” His stomach is heaving now, hips pushing unconsciously further into Kurt’s mouth. “ _Please_.”  
  
Kurt meets his gaze and it’s always so hot when he looks up at him like that from between his legs, his mouth stretched pink and wide around him. He swallows heavily, feels heat _everywhere_ , and watches as Kurt brings his fingers up and pushes three into him immediately. No time to adjust, just using the lube left over from his cock, and Blaine feels it sharply when Kurt spreads his fingers. His eyes fall closed and he gives himself over to it, sinking into the rhythm of pushing onto Kurt’s fingers and then into his mouth. It’s a circuit of sensation and he lets it build and build, until his orgasm is cresting slowly, washing through him as he jerks up and comes into Kurt’s mouth.  
  
He takes a few deep breaths and feels Kurt sit up onto his haunches, opening his eyes just in time to see him wipe his mouth with the back of his hand and grin lazily at him.  
  
“Gorgeous,” Blaine whispers.  
  
Kurt smirks. “I know.”  
  
“I love you.”  
  
Kurt’s mouth softens into a tender smile. “You too.” He runs a hand over Blaine’s stomach, laughing a little when the muscles jump at his touch. Then he falls forward and curls into Blaine’s side, wrapping his arm across his chest. “Thank god I already washed my face,” he says into Blaine’s armpit. “I’m exhausted.” He punctuates this with a wide yawn that cracks his jaw.  
  
“Goodnight, Kurt,” Blaine murmurs, kissing his forehead. Kurt doesn’t respond before his breathing evens and he’s out.  
  
***  
  
Not even ten minutes later, Blaine feels the familiar stirring in his stomach. He’s tried closing his eyes and just concentrating on sleep, but he’s so aware of Kurt’s presence. The way they’re wrapped together feels divine — Blaine loves sleeping naked with Kurt, takes any opportunity to do so when their parents are away. But it means he’s constantly rubbing bare skin against skin and he can’t sleep when all he can think about is the points of contact heating between them. Like now, for instance: he can feel where Kurt’s knees are pressed against the side of his thighs, where his arm is draped carelessly across Blaine’s chest, his finger nearly edging onto his nipple. Kurt’s like a furnace at night and Blaine feels so warm, hot really, especially where Kurt’s chest is pressed up against his own. He loves this feeling usually, loves the humidity of summer and fucking on top of the sheets. But now it just makes him aware of the heavy smell of sex lingering in the room, the way his ass still feels a little slick with lube, and where Kurt’s sticky fingers are tucked against him.  
  
Blaine shifts, the movement knocking Kurt enough that he snuffles and grips harder onto him before loosening back into sleep. _Fuck_. Kurt’s hand has shifted so that it’s on his nipple, brushing gently against it with every breath Blaine takes. He feels it harden with the stimulation, always so sensitive, like when Kurt nibbles and licks them. He loves it when he does that, feels the immediate thrum in his groin, and _ohhhh_ now he’s getting hard again. Blaine huffs a breath and tries to reign himself in, but he can feel his blood pulsing and he’s thickening, and he can’t stop feeling Kurt’s body against his and thinking of the feel of him inside and wondering if Kurt would let him fuck him if he woke him up. Just slow and deep, sleepy the way they sometimes do in the mornings, when Kurt can barely keep his eyes open and he lets Blaine gather him up in his arms even though they’re so sweaty and just lets Blaine push into him until his mouth is falling open and he’s breathing out these little wet “ _ahh_ ” sounds and—  
  
Blaine groans quietly and tries not to let his hips buck. He has to stop thinking like this if he has any plans on falling asleep again. He lifts his other arm, the one not wrapped around Kurt and touching his soft skin, and drops it over his eyes. Somehow it’s worse, with his vision cut off — it makes him hyper aware of the air on his skin, the feeling of being naked and pressed against his lover. He can feel his breath skimming over his lips, the press of the sheets on his back. It’s no good.  
  
Gingerly, he takes his arm off his face and slowly, so carefully, lowers it to his hip. His eyes are locked on Kurt’s sleeping face, tracking every movement, watching for any hint of wakefulness. His eyes are trailing over the shape of Kurt’s mouth, slightly parted in sleep, when he lets his hand loosely cup his erection. His breath stutters immediately, the relief he feels almost overwhelming. _Finally_. He starts to move his hand, slowly and keeping his fist relaxed, aware he doesn’t have any lube. It doesn’t take long before he’s found a pattern, stroking up and down, occasionally letting his hand run up and over the head of his cock. He bites his lip to keep his breath quiet, still watching Kurt, seeing the slight bounce where their bodies are connected.  
  
It’s intoxicating somehow, doing this. Blaine doesn’t keep secrets from Kurt — doesn’t keep _anything_ from Kurt — yet somehow this feels like a secret, something he’s doing without Kurt’s knowledge. And right _here_ , right next to him, his body pressed up against Blaine’s and he can feel his skin under one hand, knows what it feels like, can still feel the slight wetness of lube from before, when he was being fucked. It’s hot, still so hot, the air weighing down on him, and Blaine knows he’s gasping now — too loud for the room and the middle of the night, and maybe Kurt will wake up and find him like this, thrusting his cock through his fist while looking at Kurt’s sleeping face, wishing he could thrust into Kurt’s beautiful mouth instead. That’s enough, that’s _it;_ Blaine is coming over his hand, messy and drawn out, his teeth nearly putting a hole through his lip to stop the whine that is threatening to escape.  
  
He holds still for a moment, calming his breathing, watching and waiting for some response. Nothing. Kurt sleeps on as if Blaine hadn’t just wanked himself while wrapped in his arms. He exhales noisily, and reaches for a tissue on the bedside table. It’s only then that Kurt shifts, just fractionally, and Blaine hurriedly looks back. But Kurt is settling again, nothing breaking through into the fog of sleep, so Blaine cleans himself off quickly and settles back down.  
  
He rubs a hand over Kurt’s back once more and lets his eyes drift closed. It’s barely minutes before he’s asleep.  
  
***  
  
After a few more incidences, Blaine realises this is something that’s happening more regularly. He’s just not satisfied with one go around. He tries to come himself first when they have sex, rubbing himself against the sheets while Kurt’s fingering him open, or even jerking off before he leaves his house for their dates. Sometimes it works, but sometimes Kurt catches him out, makes him leave his hands above his head, or spanks him lightly — which does _nothing_ to stop the overwhelming urge to come — and then Blaine’s stuck on edge, desperate to orgasm and knowing it won’t be enough. One time, he begs out of their making out session, mumbles something about a shower. He leaves Kurt lying on his bed and imagines Kurt thrusting his cock in his mouth while he fucks his fist so roughly it burns and he paints the shower wall with come. When he heads back out, he finds Kurt asleep, stretched across the bed like a cat. Unwakeable. He can’t help but chuckle at himself, at this situation that he’s found himself in; aching with longing but also furious that he doesn’t just _say_ something. But he knows he can’t. Not without Kurt thinking he’s unsatisfied. As if Kurt could _ever_ fail to satisfy him.  
  
Instead, he just slides Kurt’s briefs back on over his slender hips, only letting his gaze linger the _tiniest_ bit on his deflated cock. When he’s snuggled up next to him, his nose touching Kurt’s neck, he tells himself that this is enough. This will always be enough for him.  
  
Sometimes of course, they don’t have the freedom of sleepovers. In some ways, it’s even better, because they can’t do what they really want to do, and Blaine feels more comfortable going home unsatisfied. It’s expected. They’re _teenagers_ and everyone knows teenagers are regularly horny. He sneaks inside, unable to stop thinking of Kurt’s face after he’d blown him in the passenger seat, seat pushed back and his pants pulled open just enough, Blaine tucked into the space at his feet. It had been _so_ hot, watching Kurt unravel above him, fully contained in his fancy outfit. He reaches his bed and unbuttons his fly immediately, hands grasping for the lube he knows he’d left out for this very reason. It barely takes two fingers in his ass before he comes messily into a tissue. He collapses straight away and it’s only the next morning that he realises he never changed out of his clothes.  
  
***  
  
School is challenging. Blaine’s frustrated frequently with talk of New York and NYADA and the life he won’t be witnessing. He maps his frustrations on Kurt’s skin, delighting in the way he bucks when Blaine nips at his flesh. He leaves marks where people can’t see, then watches in class and thinks _this boy is mine even if you can’t see it_. He knows it’s not helping, knows he should be talking, knows he doesn’t know how to start this conversation without having _every_ conversation. Instead, he carries on.  
  
It’s a few weeks later when Blaine hits on a potential solution. His porn collection has varied incredibly in the last few months. Since _having_ sex, it seems like his imagination wanted more possibilities, more images, more ideas. It’s intoxicating now, whereas before it had so often felt like a chore — a means to an end. Now he watches porn and sees himself, sees Kurt and him, and wonders about positions and logistics and if that would be as hot as it looks. After coming back to one video over and over, he realises perhaps it means something. It’s pretty obvious, once he thinks about it, and Blaine watches it one more time. It’s two guys, both lean and fairly non-descript — in fact, the most noticeable feature in the video is their connection and consistent eye contact. They fuck, close and sweet, sometimes rough and hot. The bottom has already come thanks to an earlier blowjob. But it’s when the top comes all over the other’s stomach that Blaine starts paying strict attention. He watches as the top brings out a vibrator from underneath the pillow and rubs it all over the other guy’s stomach, wetting it thoroughly with come. Then he slides it inside, holding his partner tightly as he fucks him slow, slapping his hand away from his cock. The guy looks rapturous, almost tortured, muscles clenched, and Blaine can’t take his eyes off him when he starts to come without his cock being touched, just the vibrator fucking into him over and over.  
  
Despite knowing it well, Blaine’s a shivery mess by the end of it, and it only takes a split second image — Kurt looking down at him on the bed while he slides a vibrator inside Blaine’s open and messy ass — to topple him over the edge.  
  
When he’s cleaned up, Blaine starts googling online sex stores.  
  
***    
  
Things fall apart when Kurt stays over. The evening is magical. Kurt helps him cook dinner — his parents are at some work function in Chicago for the weekend — and Blaine delights in the way they work together in the kitchen. He sneaks some champagne and lets himself pretend that this is their life, their house, their time. Maybe they’ll have their own apartment in New York just like this and can spend their evenings rotating around each other, the centre points of each other’s gravity.  
  
He spins Kurt around his living room and thinks that regardless of what happens afterwards, this is what happiness is.  
  
***  
  
Kurt pulls out of him slowly, Blaine’s breath hitching at the immediate feeling of emptiness. He can feel Kurt’s hands on his hips, feel the way his legs are bracketing his own, knows he has missed his opportunity. Kurt is heaving in air, trying to catch his breath after fucking Blaine hard on all fours. His hands are warm on Blaine’s hips and it leaves patches of coolness when he removes them to take off the condom. Blaine flops down face first on the bed. He’s still hard and his hips twitch when his cock rubs against the roughness of the sheets. He can’t help the little groan he makes.  
  
Kurt is there then, grabbing his ass and spreading it wide and Blaine cries out.  
  
“Look at you,” Kurt says softly. “Beautiful.”  
  
Blaine loves Kurt like this. He loves Kurt every way, but he particularly loves him like this — sexy and open, unconsciously filthy. He feels Kurt’s breath against his skin and he bucks into the sheets again, needing friction.  
  
“You gonna come for me?” Kurt says, mouth pressed against one cheek. Blaine whines and wriggles.  
  
“I want you to come for me, Blaine,” Kurt says and laps his tongue across Blaine’s hole. He’s stretched already, messy with lube, but Kurt just licks into him with wide strokes. Blaine’s world focuses until all he can do is feel Kurt’s tongue in his ass and his cock against the sheets. He shifts awkwardly, unsure if he wants to lean back or forward for more sensation. It’s wet and hot, and then he hears Kurt moan against him, as if the taste of him is _that good_ and Blaine’s frantic with it then. He thrusts, hole spasming against Kurt’s tongue, and when Kurt licks _into_ him, slips his tongue inside just a bit, Blaine keens and thrusts once more and then comes all over the sheets.  
  
Kurt keeps licking him, slower, more gentle, until Blaine squirms uncomfortably.  
  
“Thank you,” he rasps. His voice is shot, hoarse. Kurt pats him on one cheek and walks off into the bathroom.  
  
While he’s gone, Blaine shifts out of the wet spot — thank goodness for Kurt’s insistence on laying down a second sheet for this exact reason — and pulls off the top layer. He’ll have to remember to wash it tomorrow. Then he collapses back down again, still naked. He can hear Kurt’s electric toothbrush, knows he has about two minutes of vigorous brushing ahead, and slips a hand down. He lets two fingers rest against his hole, feeling the stretched edges, messy with saliva and lube. He’s loose, still _very_ loose and it’s barely anything to slide the fingers in. Blaine huffs out a breath. He’s still sensitive, but it feels _so_ good to have something in him again, something filling him up. He wonders what it would feel like it Kurt didn’t use a condom, if he could feel the come dripping out of him. The thought has him stretching his fingers, just a little, and the feeling sends his heart rate pumping.  
  
The toothbrush noises stop and Blaine hastily pulls his hand clear and wipes it down on the sheet.  
  
Kurt strolls back into the room and grins his wide, toothy grin that is probably Blaine’s favourite.  
  
“Happy?” Blaine asks.  
  
Kurt laughs. “Very.”  
  
He crawls over the bed to where Blaine is, tucks himself up against his side. Blaine loves it; despite the height difference, he loves feeling Kurt roll into him and bracket him with his body. It’s a beautiful combination of protective and vulnerable, and it’s Blaine’s favourite thing to do. He feels Kurt’s breath on his neck and his bare skin under his hand and he thinks he could be the luckiest person in the world right now.  
  
***  
  
Twenty minutes later and Kurt’s asleep like a log, his breath tickling Blaine’s ear, and once again, Blaine’s worked up. His blood is thrumming, he can feel his heart pumping in his chest, and the 600 sheep he just counted have not helped in the slightest. He’s still half hard, and every minute or so he finds himself coming back to the feeling of his stretched and loose ass.  
  
And the slim vibrator tucked in his bedside drawer.  
  
He’s used it twice since he bought it. Once, slowly and painfully, when he tried every setting and just let himself get used to the feeling of something that wasn’t Kurt’s cock. The second time had been after a visit from Kurt. They’d fooled around a bit; Kurt had pulled Blaine up and over his face so they could blow each other at the same time but before they’d finished Blaine’s mother had arrived home early and they’d scrambled to put their clothes on and act innocent when she came to the door.  
  
Needless to say, Kurt didn’t stay long and Blaine fucked his fist in the shower so hard he nearly pulled a muscle. Then, he’d waited until the house was silent, and worked himself open with the dildo until his hips were bucking and he was biting his wrist to keep from moaning aloud.  
  
Blaine considered it a successful purchase.  
  
Kurt’s breathing with his mouth open, noisy and distracting, the occasional hitch in his throat enough to have Blaine’s heart jumping. He wants more, so badly, wants Kurt back inside him. He feels empty and broken open and the only way back to normal is to have Kurt filling him up and keeping him sane.  
  
Blaine heaves a sigh and lets his eyes roam over Kurt’s sleeping face one more time. Kurt smacks his lips together then, just once, but it’s enough for Blaine to hear the quiet, wet noise of his tongue.  
  
It’s like a dam bursting. Blaine’s blood is _boiling_ ; he’s gone from aching and needy to insanely turned on and needing to come. Right now. Before he can second guess himself he’s leaning over to the drawer, pulling out the dildo carefully wrapped in a hand towel and settling himself back onto the bed.  
  
He’s gentle with it at first, even though he wants it so badly, just sliding it in carefully through the leftover lube. He doesn’t want to use more, wants to think about Kurt’s tongue on his ass, so he’s slow to begin with. But it doesn’t take long before it’s pressed right up inside and Blaine clenches hard around it, his eyes shutting at how good it feels just to be _full_ again. He runs his fingers over the small part that isn’t inside him, pressing up against the rim and feels where the plastic meets skin. He’s loose — the vibrator isn’t as thick as Kurt’s cock — but it’s messy and slippery.  
  
His finger edges onto the button on the bottom and Blaine takes a deep breath, his other hand on his stomach, as if he can feel where it’s pressed up inside him, and then turns it on.  
  
It’s immediate, his skin jumping and his ass clenching instinctively, even though it’s still so light. The vibrator has seven settings but Blaine has only ever gotten it up to six before he came. He quickly flicks it to two, lets it buzz quietly, muffled by his body.  
He’s getting into the motion of it, barely needing to move his hips to feel it again, remembering Kurt’s enthusiastic tongue and the way he’d fucked into him with Blaine on his knees. He pictures Kurt blowing him against a wall, looking up at him with those knowing eyes while Blaine thrusts wildly into his mouth until he’s coming all over his face and on the edge of his rosy tongue. Blaine’s hand slips to his cock, and it’s tacky and too dry, but feels like heaven just the same, finally getting pressure. He wants to come, _needs_ to come, and he’s so tired it almost hurts but he knows it’ll feel like relief.  
  
He pulls his hand away and lifts it to his mouth, hoping saliva will be enough. Before his tongue makes contact though, his hand is stopped.  
  
“Blaine?” Kurt says in a soft, sleepy voice.  
  
Blaine’s eyes fly open and he makes a strangled noise when he sees Kurt blinking blearily at him, his hand clasped around Blaine’s fingers that were _just touching his cock_. The vibrator’s still buzzing and Blaine gasps for breath.  
  
“ _Kurt_ ,” he says, and it’s half a moan really, but he can barely control himself. “S-sorry,” he manages to pant.  
  
Kurt’s eyes are slowly clearing and Blaine watches as his gaze travels all over him, stopping below his waist.  
  
“Is that—,” Kurt asks, and Blaine clenches down hard around the dildo again when Kurt’s tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. He pushes himself up onto his elbows and looks closer, dropping Blaine’s hand in favour of running his fingers across Blaine’s hipbone instead.  
  
“I wondered what was making that noise,” Kurt says and his smile is wide and Blaine is horny, has been horny for what feels like hours, but is maybe only thirty minutes (at most).  
  
He feels wide open, like he’s been sliced down the centre and his heart is on display. He’s choking on air and he wants to stop, wants to throw himself under the covers, but instead he arches shamelessly into Kurt’s hand — the one not even _touching_ him, really — and whines.  
  
“Oh,” Kurt murmurs, looking down again and letting his finger touch the end of the vibrator. “ _Oh_.”  
  
And then he’s moving, gripping the end of the vibrator and shifting it a little, enough that Blaine feels it all the way inside, and he can’t help the way his hips buck.  
  
“ _Blaine_ ,” Kurt breathes, and he reaches over Blaine then, casually as if his proximity to Blaine’s cock means nothing, even when he scrapes across the head. He pulls the bottle of lube out of the drawer and Blaine doesn’t know what this means but he’s hoping he’s going to get fucked again, or at the very least a spectacular handjob.  
  
But when he opens his eyes again — he barely noticed them closing — Kurt’s on his knees above Blaine, reaching behind himself. _Fuck_ , he’s fingering himself. In front of Blaine. They very rarely switch in the bedroom, not anymore. They’d tried everything in every possible combination at first, but soon they’d settled into rhythms that they liked and more often than not it was Blaine on his knees with Kurt fucking into him from behind. But now Kurt’s moaning at the feel of his own fingers, his hand awkwardly positioned to reach inside but Blaine can’t take his own hand off the vibrator in his ass. All he can do is watch and pant as Kurt rides up and down as much as his thighs allow.  
  
“I want you to fuck me,” Kurt says then, and Blaine’s hips stutter.  
  
“Yes,” he says. “Please.”  
  
He watches, almost mindlessly, as Kurt grabs a condom and rolls it smoothly over Blaine. He settles himself once more and Blaine’s hand comes up to hold his hips. He hisses when the movement means the vibrator starts to slip, but just shakes his head when Kurt looks questioningly at him. It doesn’t cross his mind again after that, not with Kurt lowering himself onto Blaine’s cock. It’s hot and so good, but Blaine’s on edge, so it’s slow and careful as well. Kurt’s thighs are already trembling, the muscles still sore from their early round, and Blaine grips his hands around the curve of Kurt’s pelvis.  
  
When they finally get a system going, Kurt lifting himself up a little and Blaine meeting him halfway by thrusting his hips, Kurt smiles down at him so warmly that it hurts. Then, he gropes behind him with one hand and Blaine’s eyes roll back into his head when he feels the dildo slide back inside his ass.  
  
It’s _incredible._  
  
He’s so full, overwhelmed by sensation. He’s grunting almost immediately, his muscles working hard to clench and thrust and push and pull.  
  
“Ohh Blaine,” Kurt says, and he’s breathless, moving above him as if he wasn’t asleep five minutes ago. “Look at you.”  
  
Blaine blinks, sweat gathering in his hairline, prickling down his back. Every movement has him thrusting up into Kurt, or back onto the still buzzing vibrator, and he somehow is still surprised when heat rushes through him. It’s a slow build, and he’s straining into it, panting through it. Kurt pulls himself up and down once more, his hand accidentally twisting the vibrator in Blaine’s ass and it’s enough, he’s coming in a rush, spilling into the condom and Kurt and the vibrator’s still thrumming inside him. He doesn’t realise he’s gripping Kurt’s hips so tightly until Kurt whines, trying to move.  
  
“Jesus,” Kurt says, and collapses forward, his erection pressing into Blaine’s hip. “You never come first.”  
  
“I know,” Blaine breathes. “Your turn?”  
  
He wants to say something sexy, to spread Kurt out underneath him and lick him all over to thank him for giving him the best orgasm of his life, but instead he’s barely conscious and he can’t dredge up the energy to move. Luckily, Kurt just laughs at him and then crawls up his body until he’s braced with a hand on the headboard and feeds his cock into Blaine’s loosely waiting mouth.  
  
It’s _hot_ , fuck, it’s the hottest thing Blaine’s seen for a while. Kurt’s tight above him, hard lines and strong muscles and his hips are snapping as he fucks into Blaine’s mouth. But Blaine is the closest to exhausted he’s been in a long time, his body finally getting what it wanted, and his eyes are sliding shut. He still feels so _full_. The vibrator’s off, Blaine realises Kurt must have switched it off when he disposed of the condom, but it’s still sitting low in his ass. He can feel it if he concentrates; can’t clench on it like he wants to, but he knows it’s there.  
  
Kurt’s thrusting harder now, his eyes closed, and Blaine can’t do more than keep up, trying to swallow but mostly just leaving his tongue flat and jaw wide. It’s hard, really, to keep his eyes open and to stay involved, but Kurt’s getting further and further down his throat and it’s making him even sleepier. It’s rhythmic, there’s a grace to Kurt’s movements that are always unsurprising, and he fucks Blaine’s mouth like he fucks his ass, no holds barred. It only takes a few more strokes, each more erratic and deep than the previous, before Kurt’s coming down his throat. Blaine’s so relaxed, nearly unconscious, that he doesn’t even need to swallow.  
  
He vaguely realises Kurt is pulling himself out, shifting off the bed. He registers a wet cloth cleaning him up and then sleep claims him once and for all.  
  
He dreams of Kurt, dreams of New York, dreams of them wrapped up together in a city that they’ve grown to love. He dreams of sitting Kurt down and singing his heart to him, knowing he’ll be heard. In his dream, Blaine can feel his heartbeat slow as Kurt holds him and whispers, _I hear you, I know you_.  
  
***  
  
In the morning, he wakes up to Kurt holding his vibrator.  
  
“Uhh,” he blurts. Blaine is not a morning person, but he valiantly pushes himself up onto his elbows to watch more closely.  
  
“I like it,” Kurt says, stroking it in a way that makes Blaine aware he’s already half hard and that seems unfair considering the night before.  
  
“I like you?” he counters awkwardly.  
  
“I’m going to get one. And keep it in my apartment in New York.” Blaine meets Kurt’s eyes then, and he feels a sudden tightness in his stomach. “I’m going to use it on me and pretend it’s you.”  
  
Blaine blinks slowly and then grins. “Thank god for Skype.”  
  
“Sex is not conversation,” Kurt says and it’s so not what Blaine expected that he falls awkwardly back onto the pillow. “It’s not a metaphor.”  
  
Blaine moves his jaw from side to side, lets his teeth grind slightly, and tries to think of something to say.  
  
“But I can’t help but wonder if it means more than I realised,” Kurt says, and he’s shifting over to sit next to Blaine then, a grounding hand on his thigh.  
  
“I just _want_ you,” Blaine says, his voice low and, _fuck_ , a little shaky.  
  
“I know,” Kurt says. “You just want me a lot. More than I knew. You want me so much you bought a vibrator to fuck yourself with while I’m sleeping.”  
  
Blaine flushes hard and fast, feels his cheeks burn. Hearing Kurt say it like that, blunt and obvious, makes his stomach roil. “I want everything with you,” he says, voice stupidly small and he can’t meet Kurt’s eyes now, even when Kurt grabs his chin and tries to force him to.  
  
“Me too,” Kurt says, and then he sinks down and starts sucking Blaine’s cock into his mouth and it’s so overwhelming on top of all of these _emotions_ that Blaine thrusts upwards before he even realises what’s happening.  
  
He knows they still have to talk. Knows _he_ has to try and talk, because Kurt’s just wrapped his way around words that belonged out of porn — and this is after fucking his face so hard he basically passed out the night before — and language like that is not Kurt’s preferred way of communicating. He bucks up into Kurt’s soft, sweet mouth and thinks about the way Kurt likes to talk. Grand gestures, biting sarcasm, or hidden messages masked under jokes. Things that Blaine found as easy as breathing, once.  
  
Now, all he manages to do is meet Kurt’s eyes, watch the way his mouth stretches around Blaine’s cock, and then he doesn’t think again as he comes messily all over Kurt’s tongue.  

 


End file.
